Street Porter
As I crested a tall dune an expanse of sandy marshes dominated the view. With a strategically placed hand shading my eyes I could just make out the surf in the distance. On the far side of the dune the odd sunbather, picnickers and couples had their own little space where they were whiling away a few leisurely hours, basking in the early July heatwave and enjoying the solitude of a secret beauty spot.
The serenity was shattered that day by a my good self and the chaos twins. In a melee of licked sandwiches, wet noses, wagging tales and a heavily laden breathless angler we made our presence felt. Being Labradors the twins were cute enough to placate the sun worshippers, I however was looked upon with suspicious eyes. He's not going to carry all that stuff all the way to the sea surely? He must be mad. Little did they realise I was on a very important mission. With the dune behind me I cursed my flip flops as the fine mud sucked them off my feet at every opportunity. A rugby field sized patch of samphire was slowly negotiated before we reached firmer ground and continued on towards the still distant shore line. Not many people come here that's for sure I thought to myself. A place where you can see almost nothing in every direction. A place so remote and hostile that claims vehicles and clings onto them forever............
A few days later I was reliably informed of two fairly amazing facts. For a start people do actually go there. One lucky chap found a lump of amber worth £10000. Another is Janet Street Porter. Being keen walker it is apparently one of her favourite places in the country to go for a ramble. Probably the first time she has been mentioned in a fishing diary.......
It's all about the Bass
Having visited the remote beach before at low tide I had a hunch. There were just too many signs. The place was absolutely littered with shells of razor clams and crabs, worm casts in the hundreds and with the river estuary close by everything pointed to my quarry- the Bass. If anywhere I frequented had Bass present I'd have bet my mortgage on this place. As you know I'm a sea fishing novice but luckily watercraft is largely transferable. Anyway as detailed above it was a total slog just to get to the shore line, I deserved some reward for my effort surely?
Walking southwards towards the estuary mouth I didn't even get close before something caught my eye. An old shipwreck about 80 yards out. In essence it was just a few bits of old wood sticking out of the water but it was the only visible feature in view, in addition to that I was knackered. I poured the dogs some water before baiting my ready-rigged rods. Squid on one, worm on the other.
With the baits out I had a little wander with my lure rod. I was never very far away from my main rods which proved prudent as after half an hour or so one was showing signs of interest. I did a quick double take down the line to check it wasn't being caused by a wayward celebrity's teeth (sorry, couldn't resist). By the time I got to the rod the tip was arced over and I struck immediately. Being the squid outfit at first I thought it was a small hound. Amazingly it wasn't. My prize...........
Now this may sound a bit sad but I sort of gave up after that. I'd caught my first Bass, nothing could top that. I stayed for another hour but I didn't really care that the tips stayed motionless. Not even the arduous trudge back could dampen my mood.
Like Buses
Still in full sea fishing mode I decide to have a go on my local beach after work one night. An 11pm high tide fell just right for my finish time an hour earlier. The sea was flat calm and it was a dark night. I could see a couple of anglers lights far in the distance, which strangely provided me with some solace. Both rods were baited with squid this time. I was after hounds but would they still be about I thought as the time ticked away. An hour passed, even the lights in the distance had disappeared and my interest started to wane. A quick change to fresh baits and I stood with my head torch illuminating my rod tips without much hope of a fish at all really.
As usual just as I was about to start packing up one of my rods hooped over. As I lent into it I was sure it was a hound as it thumped away spiritedly. To my total surprise it wasn't a hound at all. It was only another Bass and a good one too. New PB of 4lb 10oz..........
Flogging a dead horse
The next few trips to the beach were fairly disastrous. It may have only been an hour here and an hour there but those trips dampened my enthusiasm. In fact on one visit it wasn't just my enthusiasm that was dampened but myself and all my belongings as a freak wave drenched me and tried to claim my rods, tripod and all. My phone was ruined and with everything else saturated I headed home dejectedly. When the hounds aren't there it really is hard work.
With the fishing so slow I feared the worse when Leo and Phil said they wanted to come over. It's a long journey for them and I couldn't even join them because of work commitments. I was geniunely delighted though when I got a message through on my phone mid afternoon, Somehow Phil had caught. First off a lovely Thornback Ray...........
Followed up by a Smoothound........
Leo chipped in with a few Flounders including one really big one. Phil was the man with the midas touch that day though, he'd missed out on the hounds on his last visit so it was really nice to see him succeed. Well done Phil.
Getting fresh...........
It was time to take stock. In a little over a month of sea fishing I'd had Smoothounds to nearly eleven pounds, two lovely Bass and an assortment of small flatties. With my catches diminishing and also still smarting from that freak wave I decide to put the beachcasters away and head down to the river.
On arrival I could see a group of Perch that were striking at fry about mid-stream. I made no attempt tomatch the hatch so they say but chucked a 3 inch mini fry straight over their heads. One took it instantly..........
With the chalk-filtered water running so very clear I watched as the Perch re-joined the shoal. In fact I didn't even have another cast, With no really big ones present I was happy just to watch them. Strange creatures fish, they seem to have ways of communicating that we are yet to fully understand. If one goes charging in the others follow. In fact it's a lot more synchronised than that. It reminded me of fishing for Carp on the top when you'd get two or three fish come up at exactly the same time in different areas after a period of no feeding whatsoever. Not sure if any of this helps us catch them but fascinating just the same.
Not again Phil.......
No, no you don't understand, this time I was sure I had found a venue that would produce that elusive 4lb perch I so crave. It was a small lake that had been shut for a number of years due to quite a sad story of ill health and family turmoil. In recent months though it had changed hands and the new owners set about tidying the place up and even dredged a lot of the silt out. With no recent news to go on all I had was its previous form. The old website promised 'Perch to threaten the British record'. As soon as I got word that it had reopened I was there.
When I arrived the new owner appeared, a delightful lady who instantly offered me a tea or coffee. I could get used to this I thought as I looked for a likely looking spot. I settled on a peg near to an island and cupped in a generous amount of chopped worm. Straight away I was getting bites, unfortunately they weren't from Perch but Roach and some big ones too, maybe a pound or so. A couple of hours in and I hooked something far more substantial. It felt strange though and it soon became apparent I'd hooked an Eel. After a fair old tussle it surfaced and my word it was a beast, by far the biggest Eel I had ever seen. Quite how big we'll never know for after swimming backwards out of my landing net twice the hook pinged out. Bugger.
The owner hadn't been aware of any big perch coming out but then again she didn't know there were any Eels present. She did tell me there were some Chub in the lake though and after my swim dried up completely I had a wander around. In the far corner I saw something that made my heart jump. If it was a Chub it would be a British record. I quickly walked back and picked up my lure rod. I removed the lure from my line and tied a size 6 hook on. With a cheese cob pilfered from my pack up I made my way back around the lake. It took my bread offering first time and it wasn't a Chub, of course it wasn't, Chub don't grow to fourteen and a half pounds........
That was it for that particular day. Although it is some thirty miles from my house I've been back twice and each time I've struggled. I have caught lots of Perch but all very small. While I can't be sure there are any really big fish in there I will give it a few more goes or maybe even wait till the winter when the resident Carp have stopped colouring the water so much.
So where does that leave us? Well I do feel like I might just have short changed you this month but as ever my buddies are on hand to help out. Kind of like a rogues gallery we not only have fish from all over the country but a couple from abroad too......
First up is Andy who enjoyed some excellent sea sport in Pembrokeshire before heading back to his beloved river Trent for some fine looking Barbel.....
Next is Kent supremo Nate who's been out Eeling..........
Our friend Barry fisher travelled all the way to Finland to see a mate and while the fishing in general wasn't all he hoped it would be he did manage a nice lure caught Rudd.....
On the subject of lures, lure nut Carl has been troubling those midland Zander again.......albeit mainly the small ones............
Last but not least is Pete with the fish of his dreams from a trip to Thailand, an Arapaima..........
Contact
You are more than welcome to contact me via my email.....
How are you getting on with those new reels you told us about last month Phil? Er, have a look for yourself...........
After being hit with that freak wave both my reels were submerged in salt water. Despite thoroughly rinsing them in fresh water after the event one took poorly. The salt must have worked its way into the bearings as it felt horrible. After a strip down and re-grease it feels little better. It still works though. I could source some new bearings but I'll leave it for a while to see how long they last. One other thing is the bail arm. When building up for a big cast the rotors are so free moving they can actually flip the bail arm over through inertia alone. I think I have found a solution by putting the rotor right on the stop before casting. Having the bail arm shut on a big cast is not pleasant, if it happens again I'll take the trips out. Ho hum, at least they look nice.........
An essential part of my tackle these days is my camera. The Panasonic G3 really has been a great fishing camera. It's done me absolutely proud and almost all of the pictures in my diary in the last couple of years have been taken with it. Phone camera users will think it's overkill while DSLR users will sneer at its simplicity. The images speak for themselves though an honestly I can't recommend them highly enough. It was good enough to get me 'Picture of the Week' in Angling Times, with a self take too. The G3........
Despite my love of the G3 I've been out and bought a new toy, a Nikon D5200. I just wanted a bit more detail in my photos. After a few initial tries I am realising it isn't going to be quite that simple. This could be down to me or it could be highlighting what a good little camera the G3 is. It's certainly better for self take fishing photos as the flipround screen on the Nikon is a bit dim-witted. I never had to use a tripod or a remote with the G3. A simple bankstick adaptor and the built in timer were plenty good enough. I will persevere with the Nikon though because I have taken a couple of really impressive shots, I just need to be a lot more consistent with it........
Till next time..............
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